Saoirse Buckley
Basic Statistics Known as: Saoirse, ‘Sara,’ ‘Rowan,’ etc. Age: 23 Class: Rogue Occupation: Thief, Arsonist, Entertainer Race: Human (Mixed Damarran/Illuskan) Alignment: Chaotic Evil (True Alignment Title: Agent of Chaos and Strife) Country of Origin: The Moonsea Character’s Religious Dogma: Sow destruction and chaos where ever possible, but do not encourage out-right war across the lands. Those that make peace, order, and laws deserve only death. Fear those in authority, but slay those that are weak. Fell one foe at a time and keep all folk afraid, uneasy, and in constant strife. Any method or means is justified if it brings about the desired end. "See, their morals, their code: it's a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They're only as good as the world allows them to be. I'll show you. When the chips are down, these, uh… these civilized people, they'll eat each other. See, I'm not a monster; I'm just ahead of the curve... You have all these rules, and you think they'll save you. But the truth is, the truth. Is that the only sensible way to live in this world is without rules." ~ Saoirse Physical Statistics Appearance: Pale, ashen skin, charcoal dark eyes, a small, thin mouth and jet-black hair woven into tight braids and pulled back away from her small oval face. Lacking any remarkable beauty, she often looks as if she misses out on sleep, or food. Her short frame is thin, without the plump bulges indicating a well-fed life, and possesses small, dexterous hands which she often keeps tucked into pockets so as not to draw attention. Appearance, Part II (Equipment worn): Favoring muted, nondescript grayish tones, her clothing is often worn and unskillfully patched, perhaps a size or two too large to cover up the stiff leather hide hidden underneath. Attitude: Playful, dodgy; She resists answering questions of personal detail, but thoroughly enjoys philosophical debates, if only for the chance to play devil’s advocate. In private she is ruthless, without morals or loyalty beyond pacts-of-convenience and friends-of-the-moment. She thrills at chaos and mayhem, and adores puzzles, explosives, and destruction. Height: 5’1” Weight: 115 lbs. Skin tone: Pale, ashen. Skin Texture: Along her left side, from ankle to shoulder is a complex pattern of tribal tattoos in black, purple and gold ink. A similar pattern covers her right forearm, lines drawing down from her elbow towards her wrist. Some of it specifically disguises old meandering scars. Eyes: Black Hair: Black, braided. Left handed or right handed: Left-handed Favored weapons: Explosives, alchemists fire, traps, knives of all varieties. Accent: A notable Chondathan accent, with occasional sailor slurs. Commonly spoken languages: Damaran, Chondathan Relatives: None worth mentioning. History Back-story: Saoirse comes from a rather meager background: A coal-mining father, her mother attempting to pull in a few extra wages as a seamstress on the side, she grew up with little resources at her disposal under the shadow of the Zhentarim, near the Citadel of the Raven. Though Saoirse is her given name, Buckley is not. At 16, she opted to sneak out of her parents’ house and begin migrating south over the mountains. Pursuit of spare coins from others’ pockets earned her a stay in prison, and three years in indentured servitude on a Zhentarim fleet ship. At 20, a few months shy of her supposed (though never intended) release date, the ship was attacked by Pirates, who ‘freed’ her when they sank the Zhent ship. She stood and watched without pity on the ‘enemy’ vessel’s deck as the fires consumed the hull, mast, sails and flag which had been her home. She stayed on for nearly 9 months, learning to drink and curse with a pirate’s swagger, and acquired a fondness for the sound of canon-fire, before slipping off one night while in port at a hide-away not far from Hillsfar. As a human, she walked the streets of Hillsfar without harassment, and frequented the Arena to watch the blood sport on display with much inward glee. A shrewd business mind, she kept tabs as an under the table bookie for bets on several fights, before being sniffed out by the local authorities and fleeing under cloak of night with several debts unpaid. It’s likely that a return to her former haunting grounds would not be warmly welcomed. Her migrations eventually lead her along the road further west towards Yulash, where she’s yet to make a name or face for herself, but her dark eyes already hold a diabolical gleam once having beheld the grand City Hall, it’s prominently listed Laws and the prim, Watch Guards marching proudly around the city. Her only current concern and annoyance, is having been too late to be the first to attack the bank. Category:PC Category:PC